Discount codes from KOBO

We just received great news from KOBO. They are offering 50% off codes for my e books.

cover-finalkindle

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-ca/ebook/a-hairdresser-s-diary

Sequal COVER

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-ca/ebook/a-hairdresser-s-diary-scissors-retired

here are the dates and codes

Canada
October 28th – October 31st
Promo Code: CA50SALE

United States/Australia/New Zealand
October 27th – October 30th
Promo Code: GET50SALE

United Kingdom
October 30th – November 2nd
Promo Code: UK50SALE

 

What a nice before Christmas gift.

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A pat on the back for a job well done.

The other day I had a very strange thing happen. I know there are many of you out there who will understand what I am about to tell you. Especially artists or authors. We all know when we accomplish something we feel very proud of ourselves for, we not only need but appreciate our family, friends and yes even strangers to reassure us that we did indeed do something worth sharing and bragging about.

When I published my latest and newest book, the sequel to A Hairdresser’s Diary / A Hairdresser’s Diary: Scissors Retired, I was so pleased and excited. I had ran into a few brick walls along the way. I cannot take all the credit because without my friends and editors, Jo-Anne and Ronnie this book would have been a grammar and punctuation nightmare. Without all my wonderful friends, family and clients I would have no stories to tell. But this time when I needed to publish I did do it myself. It was a frustrating learning experience but after pulling out half my hair I did it.

I wanted to share my accomplishment with EVERYONE. At 70 years old I needed to let others know I still had some working gray matter. Now here comes the part that I think as artists some of us are confused by. One of my FB acquaintances, while messaging me about something totally different told me she did not ‘like’ or ‘comment’ on my postings, about my book, because she was afraid I might expect her to buy one. Although most of us write books on the hope that someone will buy them, we are not so naïve to think  everyone will. I cannot imagine what that would be like to have every family member, friend or person we meet buy our books, we would indeed be millionaires. But it cost NOTHING to show support for a job well done.

I have sold a fair amount of my first book both ebooks and soft covered. I already have many sales for my new book. So please do not shy way from saying, congratulations, for fear I might expect you to buy because I promise I do not! It just feels so good to hear the words or see the ‘likes’.

I have another author friend who told me not one of her family members even acknowledged her accomplishments. She has written and published 5 books and has not sold even one copy. When she tries to talk about her books both family and friends shy away from the subject, so she took them off the market. I am so lucky for my family and friends have been so supportive.

What an exciting day

Sequal COVER sequel back cover

This morning I announced the publishing of my new book to Amazon and to Kindle. I now can let you all know it is also on LULU, Kobo, Nook and many other sites. What is amazing is I have already sold my first copy online. Thank you all.

It is hard to believe it took over two years to get it to this point. I want to thank all who helped me get where I am today and share the experience of being published once again.

Tidbits from A Hairdresser’s Diary /Scissors Retired – part eight

One day, while I was looking through the newspaper for the weekly sales, I noticed an ad for young adults who were wanted for various modeling positions or to work as extras in the movies. Although it intrigued me, I shrugged it off thinking it could only be a scam. When the boys came home from school, I told them of my find. Doug was not the least bit interested, but Terry jumped at the chance and begged me to check it out. I warned him of the fraudulent aspect of the ad, but he pleaded saying, “Mom, could you please just call and see if it is real?” I talked it over with Ron who was adamant that I be careful of being reeled in like an unsuspecting fish. I promised I would be diligent. I made the call the next morning to the Hamilton number supplied in the ad. I was both pleasantly surprised and thrilled about the exciting information I received. Therefore, I immediately made an appointment for Terry to be interviewed the following day. Ron quizzed me in a hundred different ways until he was satisfied the information I had was on the level. Terry was overjoyed at the thought of working in the movies, even if only as and ‘extra’. I begged him not to get too carried away until his interview was completed. That was like asking a little boy in a candy Shoppe not to want a piece of candy. Terry was up and dressed hours before we had to leave. Once there, we were surprised to find a small, one room dreary office in a rather dull, half run down building. Taking hold of Terry’s hand, I took a deep breath before entering. My first instinct was to run the other way as fast as we could. The heavy wooden door squeaked as I opened it, which alerted the only person in the office. He immediately stood up to greet us. Extending his hand to me, he said, “Good afternoon and welcome. Have you come in response to our ad?”

“Yes, I am here with my son, Terry. You advertised the need for young people for modeling positions and to work as extras in the movies? I have an appointment to see Stan. I assume that would be you?”

“Yes it certainly would, and you must be Chris?”

I nodded and smiled. I think Stan sensed my uneasiness with their unprofessional location and the lack of secretary in the office, for without hesitation he said, “Please excuse our informal location – it is only temporary. We needed to find an office ASAP here in Hamilton so we could do interviews immediately. There are three movies booked to be filmed in this area and they need extras who are ready willing and able before the end of this week. Our new office will be in one of the new buildings downtown. Feeling more at ease, I asked, “So, what do you need from us?” Stan motioned to the two wooden chairs in front of his desk and Terry and I sat down and made ourselves comfortable. Stan turned his attention to Terry and asked. “So young man, which of our programs are you interested in?” Almost before Stan could finish, Terry blurted out excitedly, “Working in the movies!” Stan laughed, “What no modeling?”

“Not really – I would prefer not to do that. That is what my mom used to do” Stan looked at me with a questioning look but I quickly changed the subject.

“Stan are there certain specifications needed?”

“Not really. You will have to sign a contract that you will work for us only. We get our money by supplying the extras to the movie companies.”

“Do we have to pay a fee or buy anything?’

“No, we have no fees or sign up costs. You get paid by the hour, whether you are physically working or not, as long as you are on the set. Terry, you will have to come here to this office or when the new one is opened to that one when you are ‘called’. We provide transportation to the designated location. Now, if you decided you want to be a driver, you will have to take others with you but you get paid gas money as well. We can figure all of that out once you see if you like the work. One last thing Terry, there is no set or guaranteed hours. If this suits you, we can draw up the contract.” Terry was very excited with all the information we received, and already had pen in hand. Just as Stan was finishing his paper work, he looked at me and said, “How about you Chris?” I must have looked confused for he continued with, “Why don’t you sign up too?”

“Me? Are you kidding? I am not here for me. I am here for my son.”

Tidbits from A Hairdresser’s Diary /Scissors Retired – part seven

Water drops

Water drops

Approximately a month after we moved and got settled we had our first new neighbour. Lidia, her husband Jack and their three year old son Johnny moved into their newly built house. They were friendly but kept to themselves most of the time. Although the family was not much on visiting I did cut Lidia and Johnny’s hair. My kids were too old to regularly play with Johnny but would let him in on their games when he was outside.

It was on one of the many days when I had to make a trip to the doctor’s, that I was stopped by a very strong urge to go back into the house and write a poem. The deep seeded urge was almost magnetic, almost as if, I was drawn by a power other than my own. This would not be just any poem but a very specific piece, one that would burn itself into my heart and mind for the rest of my life. I was almost in the car when this feeling overwhelmed me. I went back into the house and started writing. What was strange about this particular poem was while composing it I made no mistakes. Can you imagine not even making one error? I walked out my front door and across Lidia’s front yard, I knocked on her front door, and as she answered, I found myself apologizing for being in such a hurry. I handed her the folded paper the poem was on and I left. I was running late.

I had not given the morning events much thought until I arrived home. Lidia was sitting on my front step and she was crying. I noticed the piece of paper in her hands. I was confused when I realized my poem might have offended her. “Lidia, I am so sorry. Did my poem upset you?” No longer just softly crying, she started to sob. Now I was extremely and painfully upset. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, what did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Chris I promise you.”

“Then why are you crying?” I asked my voice softening.

“Chris today is the first anniversary of Jack’s death.”

Oh my, I had not remembered it had been a year since Jack had the horrific and tragic accident that took his life. While he was on his way home from work he had been listening to his car radio and had not heard the train whistle that was warning him to stop as he tried to cross the tracks. He was killed instantly. Lidia continued, “I was slumped in a tearful heap at the kitchen table this morning, dark and depressing thoughts fueled by uncontrollable pain was squeezing my heart, mind and soul had overpowered me. I was seriously contemplating if I was any use to Johnny or myself without Jack. I had just gotten off the phone with my mother, who thought I should just shake off my dreadful mood. I was in prayer, talking to God. I was asking Him why no one understood how I was feeling when you came to the door,”

“I am so sorry Lidia, so very sorry.“  As I hugged her I could feel her pain. “I am so sorry I hurt you with my words.”

‘MY LOVE’

I sat here just a crying,

Listening to our favourite country song,

I still feel the haunting pain

Of a love we’d known so long.

I can close my eyes and see you,

I can touch you where you stand,

As my eyes do open slowly,

I feel your warmth still on my hand,

I don’t know why God chose you,

To sweep you away, my love,

But I’ll bet my bottom dollar

You’ll protect me from above.

With so many precious memories,

Special moments I’ve spent with you,

I really feel deep in my heart,

You’ll help me do what I must do.

The pain inside may lessen,

But I won’t let it go away,

Because our love was special,

I want the memories to stay.

“Oh no! You don’t understand. I am crying because through your poem, God spoke to me and He let me know He understands.” She held my hand tightly as she spoke. “Every word you wrote, were my thoughts and I knew you could not know such intimate things about us, so it had to come from God.” She was now whispering, “Thank you for believing and being an instrument of the Lord’s words. I know now that I have the strength to go on and be a good mother and for that, I will always love you.” We now cried together and I knew the words on that paper were not from me but were through me. I felt blessed.

It was not long before Lidia and Johnny moved to another part of the city. I heard she was remarried to a wonderful young man from her church. I never saw her again.

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That which does not kill me makes me stronger.

That which does not kill me makes me stronger.

Well here I am back in business and on the ball again. It has been a very long and painful five weeks. Just minutes before my radio interview with Sherri http://www.blogtalkradio.com/rithebard/2013/02/26/chatting-with-sherri  I felt a pain in my left knee. I mentioned to Sherri and she wanted to know if I wanted to cancel the show.”Hell no! ” was my response. Once the interview was over I tried to stand up from my sitting position and my knee popped and snapped. From that moment until now I have been hospitalized, bedridden, had surgery and now am on the mend. I was so scared as I was unable to walk or stand. I went through so many physical, emotional and mental transformations. Once again thanks to prayers from my friends and family God has decided I should be here to annoy you all for while still.

    I know I have just repeated myself here but there is a reason for my doing so. I am trying to make a point. There are so many of us with chronic pain, who on a daily basis have to live with what has been dealt to us. Then there are the surprise attacks on our bodies.  

      Does the fact that we have to live with pain on a daily basis make these extras more tolerable?

      Does anyone feel we are like the sore toe, when it is hurt we continuously bang it?

      Do you feel like others expect you to be stronger no matter what happens?

      There is a saying, God only puts on your plate what He knows you can eat. Well I think for some of us it feels like we are being served a buffet. I once had a friend tell me I had to learn to be grateful for the lessons God was was trying to teach me. It was during this conversation that I found out from her that she had never had a sick day in her life, let alone over 30 surgeries and two battles with cancer. When I told her that next time God wanted to add some more to my plate, I was going to tell Him I knew someone whose plate had ALWAYS been empty, and then I pointed at her. She called me a blasphemer and left my house in a huff. I am sure God was having a giggle over that one. 

      It is easy for those who have never suffered to be judgmental and unfeeling.

Tidbits from A Hairdresser’s Diary /Scissors Retired

Now we were into early 1974. Four more years had passed and there were even more dramatic changes in our lives. We had happily reunited with my Baba and Guido only to have Guido pass away just a few weeks before our son Douglas Ronald was born. I also had a second chance to get to know my father. I must say I had a burning curiosity to see him again. I was not sure if it was to confront him or forgive him. Maybe a little of  both. I was biding my time until I was comfortable about asking Baba how I could get in touch with him. Once reunited, our visits were sporadic but we were trying to get to know each other. I was looking forward to having our kids and Ron get to know him as well. This reunion did not sit well with my mother so we didn’t discuss it with her. I had not seen him in 26 years. We had so many years to catch up on. I also had the good fortune of cultivating a good and loving relationship with all the siblings I knew as my brothers and sisters. Now we were grown and could think for ourselves, we as a family decided to be just that – a family. Nothing pleased me more. We started going to the family Christmas gatherings, something we had not done for many years. This was great for our kids – they now had a very large extended family.

The smartest decision we ever made was to take the four thousand dollar settlement from the accident – not more than an insult for the extreme loss we suffered – and use it as a down payment to build our tiny one floored castle. We could not know how this one important decision would have such a positive impact on our young family. We would no longer look back. We went from Windsor Housing to becoming homeowners. How proud we were of that accomplishment. We would take a horrible experience and make it something special and wonderful – ‘a silk purse out of a sow’s ear’ – or so they say. One of the things that made it so wonderful was we brought our beautiful, seven month preemie, miracle baby boy, Douglas, home to our new home the first week we took possession. We had to leave him in hospital for five heartbreaking, frightening weeks after he was born. He was too tiny, sick and weak from fighting for his life to come home with me. We knew he was our son when he fought and won. Christine was the typical big sister who wanted to be a little mommy and Terry the big brother who wanted to protect his baby brother. The doctor was worried about my health and arranged for a tubal ligation the day after Doug was born. We were concerned another pregnancy might land me up in a wheelchair. God gave us three amazing, caring and loving children who rarely complained when they had to chip in and help. It did not matter if it was helping with Doug, housework or just running errands.

Doug was only a year old when I had to have an emergency hysterectomy. I was shocked but so very thankful that my mother came to the rescue to take care of Christine and Terry. They were old enough to go home with her and they genuinely loved their Nanny. To my delight, my mother and I had found some common ground. I no longer wept for the mother I never had. What she lacked in motherhood she made up for as a sweet, loving grandmother who the kids called, Nanny. She showed her love not just to our children but to the rest of the family as well. She showed no favoritism. We had too much baggage to let bygones be bygones but we could have comfortable and enjoyable visits. I must confess I had painful moments when I caught myself feeling jealous, these thankfully were short-lived and fleeting. It was important to me that our kids had grandparents that I was deprived of. It was obvious she was still oblivious to the bad treatment she bestowed on me. She acted as if it never happened. When I tried to talk about it she would look at me as if I was talking about someone else. I put it aside for our kids’ sakes. Ron didn’t want Doug to be so far away so we had a friend come stay at the house and take care of him for the week I was in hospital. She also helped for the six weeks I needed to recover.

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